


A Long Ride From Paris

by tinadp



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Brotherhood, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, sick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-30
Updated: 2015-03-31
Packaged: 2018-03-20 08:21:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3643305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinadp/pseuds/tinadp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aramis falls ill while the Musketeers are on their way back to Paris after a mission.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Linguam](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Linguam/gifts).



> This is for Linguam who's been waiting for sick Aramis.  
> Thanks also to Celticgal1041 for inspiration and encouragement.

Aramis shivered and pulled his cloak around himself more snugly. The chills he had been battling for the last hour were doing little to help him in his attempts to convince himself that he was not getting sick. His breath hitched suddenly and he sneezed into his gloved hand. The sneezes weren't really doing much to help his case either. 

The had been riding for days on a mission to deliver important correspondence for the king. They were finally on the last leg of their trip back home to Paris and Aramis was exhausted. He wanted nothing more than to be back at the garrison on his own lumpy mattress. But unfortunately, they had another full day's worth of riding left and night was starting to fall. He had hoped they might find a nice little inn, or even a barn in which to spend the night, but there wasn't a structure in sight. The previous night had be spent in the cold night air and he feared a repeat. 

He hadn't been feeling well all day, though he had initially attributed his aches and pains that morning and the beginnings of a scratchy throat to spending the night outside and on the cold hard ground. His symptoms however had only worsened over the course of the day. His throat had gotten progressively more raw and painful, and the headache had started soon after, only to be joined by congestion and sneezing later in the day. The chills were the latest development. 

He sneezed again forcefully, wincing at the pain in his throat. 

"God bless you Aramis!" He was startled to hear D'Artagnan beside him. 

"Oh, D'Artagnan, please excuse me." He apologized. 

"Of course, "D'Artagnan smiled. "Doesn't look like we are going to find any beds tonight."

"I was just thinking the same thing," Aramis tried not to shiver, causally rubbing his finger beneath his nose to avoid sniffling. 

"Porthos sent me up to check with Athos, do you think he's familiar with this area?" Aramis shrugged and the younger man continued,"We were hoping he might have an idea of somewhere to stay. "

"We can only hope," Aramis added and D'Artagnan nodded as his horse trotted up ahead to Athos who was leading their procession. He saw them stop ahead and Porthos joined him from behind as he approached the other men. 

His chills were getting worse and Aramis struggled to keep hold of the reins securely. He could tell from the discussion that they were looking at another night outside. He was feeling so cold already, he couldn't imagine getting through the night out in the elements. 

Struck by several more sneezes that were violent and sudden, Aramis found himself swaying in the saddle for a moment before regaining his balance. 

"You're sick!" Porthos accused, "Why didn't you say anything?

Athos looked back at him concerned, "Aramis?"

Aramis shivered, knowing it would be impossible to deny his illness at that point, "I believe I may be coming down with something...." His voice was starting to get hoarse. 

"I think you already have it my friend," D'Artagnan offered sympathetically. 

Porthos inched his horse over close to Aramis' pulled off his glove and reached over to put his hand across his friend's forehead. "You're burning up!"

"I'm fine Porthos, it's nothing serious, just a cold I'm sure. " Aramis reassured looking at three doubtful faces. 

"D'Artagnan , ride ahead and see if there's anywhere we can stay the night, for now we'll build a fire and start to set up camp over in that clearing." Athos ordered, turning his horse around. 

"There's no need to go to any trouble Athos..." Aramis began but one glare from Athos silenced him. 

"Aramis, don't be foolish, what would you do if one of us was ill?" Porthos asked and Aramis remained silent.

They dismounted in the clearing and Athos took the horses while Porthos went to gather firewood. Athos turned to Aramis before he had time to do anything. "Have a seat my friend," he guided him to a spot near where they would build the fire and pulled a blanket from his saddlebag wrapping it around his friends shoulders. 

Aramis was about to protest, but once again a stern look silenced him and he nodded his thanks pulling the blanket around himself, still shivering. Porthos was back in minutes with an armful of wood to get the fire started. By the time the fire was going Athos had settled the horses. 

"Let's wait to see what D'Artagnan finds before we unpack any further." Athos suggested and Porthos nodded in agreement sitting closely beside a shivering Aramis. Aramis relaxed into Porthos' side as his friend put his arm around his shoulder. Athos silently sat on his friends opposite side, hoping that between the fire and their body heat they could bring him some warmth and comfort. 

The peace was soon interrupted by a bout of harsh coughing from the marksman. He struggled to catch his breath as Athos quickly retrieved a water skin and handed it to him. After several gulps of water his coughing ceased and his breathing became regular. 

"Don't like the sound of that." Porthos stated looking at Aramis with concern. 

"I'm fine Porthos." His voice had grown even more hoarse. 

"Of course you are," Athos commented sarcastically " We know that you are always honest and forthcoming with us about your health." 

"Always,"Porthos added with a chuckle as Aramis remained silent, knowing he could not argue the point. 

The three sat in relative silence before the campfire, the only sounds being the cracking and popping of the fire itself and occasional coughs from Aramis. After a time Porthos and Athos could hear the sounds of congested snoring between them as Aramis' dozed on Porthos' shoulder. 

"How sick do you think he really is?" Athos whispered over his head. 

Porthos shrugged, "Don't really know, it seemed to come on quick. He was fine this mornin'. Do you think the boy will find anywhere to stay?"

Athos sighed, "The longer he's gone the less likely it seems. We may need to stay here."

"Hope he don't get any worse sleeping outside in the cold." Porthos frowned. 

"We'll keep him as warm as we can, hopefully that will help." Athos offered, wishing they had another alternative. 

It wasn't much later before they heard a horse approaching. Both men had their muskets ready until they confirmed it was the Gascon returning. "Did you find any place to shelter?" Athos asked gently sliding Aramis over completely onto Porthos' shoulder and standing up. 

D'Artagnan shook his head, "There's nothing anywhere close. I was going to look further out but I was afraid it would be too far for Aramis to ride. How is he?"

Porthos shrugged. "You're probably right about him riding, don't think we could even get him back on his horse now."

"Should we try to get something into him before we set up the bedrolls?" D'Artagnan asked unpacking his saddlebags. 

"Don't know what he'd eat," Porthos frowned, "Sounds like his throat was pretty sore."

"We should get some liquids into him at least." Athos suggested. "Maybe some bread too."

Porthos nodded and gently shook Aramis' shoulder. "'Mis, can you wake up for a minute." Athos handed him a water skin and he continued to gently shake Aramis until he opened his eyes sleepily. 

"P'thos? What's the matter?" He slurred, eyes half closed. 

"I need you to wake up and have some water," Porthos gently pushed his hair back from his forehead, frowning at the heat he felt there. 

After a minute Aramis seemed more alert and opened his mouth as Porthos held the water skin to his lips and helped him drink. 

D'Artagnan rifled through their provisions, finding some bread and cheese. Porthos tried to coax Aramis into eating while Athos set up the bedrolls side by side. 

Aramis could only be persuaded to eat a few bites before pushing Porthos' hand away. "Not hungry, P'thos. Don't want any more." His eyes were already closing. 

"Aramis," Porthos stroked his cheek, "At least have a little more water then." Aramis leaned heavily against Porthos, opening his mouth as his friend held the water skin. 

Once Aramis was finished Athos and Porthos helped him to his feet and half carried him the short distance to the bedrolls. Athos had layed them out side by side. Seeing how much Aramis was shivering as they layed him down Porthos quickly lied down behind him and wrapped his arms around his friend. 

"S-Sso cold Porthos," his teeth were chattering and Athos covered the men with several blankets. 

"I know Aramis, I'm sorry, I'll warm you up."Aramis turned over and curled himself into Porthos' arms. Porthos cuddled his friend against his chest, whispering soothingly to him until he fell asleep. 

Athos and D'Artagnan looked on with concern. Once Aramis settled they pulled out their provisions and moved to sit beside Porthos. D'Artagnan offered him some food but Porthos shook his head, not wanting to let go of his sleeping friend when he finally seemed comfortable. 

"I'll take first watch," Athos offered after they had eaten. " D'Artagnan lie on Aramis' other side. Hopefully that will keep him warm. "

D'Artagnan nodded and slid under the covers beside Aramis, stunned at the amount of heat radiating from the man. "He's so hot," he whispered to Porthos who nodded and sighed in response. 

Athos sat watch beside the fire, worry for Aramis filling his thoughts. His friend moaned in his sleep periodically, but whenever he started to get restless Porthos was able to soothe him. It was well into the night before he woke D'Artagnan to take over, not wanting to disturb the comfort Aramis seemed to have found between his friends. 

Athos slipped beside Aramis as D'Artagnan took his post until morning. Porthos opened his eyes and nodded his thanks as Athos pulled the blankets snugly over the three of them. Fortunately, Aramis slept peacefully for the rest of the night. 

The morning found Aramis with only a slight fever, but not seeming improved in any other way. His head was congested and his throat painfully sore. Porthos gently helped him sit up and handed him the water skin. Aramis felt parched and guzzled the water. That was enough to send him into a painful sounding coughing fit which left the others frowning in concern. 

"Oh Aramis," D'Artagnan shook his head, "What are we going to do with you?"

"Get him home to bed," Porthos chimed in before Aramis could answer. 

"I'm not that bad off..." He managed to croak before starting to cough once again. 

"I'm not even sure we should try to make it back to Paris today. Maybe we should just find the closest inn." Porthos suggested and Athos nodded. 

"I think that would be for the best Porthos. One of us could stay with Aramis. And the other two return to Paris." Athos agreed. 

"I can make it back to Paris," Aramis insisted halfheartedly, not even looking like he believed it himself. 

"We'll see how things go," Athos offered diplomatically, none of the men believing Aramis could make the trip to Paris. 

Porthos ate his share of the provisions ravenously having missed his supper the night before but couldn't coax Aramis into more than one or two bites. The pained expression he did not even bother to try to hide as he swallowed left no doubt as to the condition of his throat. 

The others made him sit while they packed up camp. The three worried at the sight of their friend. His skin was pale, his exhaustion evident in the dark circles under his eyes. 

"He'll never make it back to Paris,"D'Artagnan whispered glancing over to their friend. 

"I know, I'm not even sure he's well enough to ride on his own, but I don't want to get him riled up before I have to." Porthos responded and Athos nodded. 

Once camp was broken down and the saddlebags packed Porthos made his way back over to Aramis. He offered his hand and helped his friend to his feet. Aramis clung to Porthos' arm for a moment as he regained his balance. Porthos frowned but remained silent as they walked over to the horses. He tried to keep his hand on Aramis' arm to offer support but Aramis gently pulled himself away as they walked. 

"Aramis..." Porthos began as they reached the horses. 

"I'm fine Porthos," Aramis insisted "We can ride on to Paris.

Athos was about to interject when Aramis was overcome by several powerful sneezes which left him once again swaying, clinging to Porthos to stay upright. Porthos put his arm around his waist to hold him up. 

"You're riding with me," Porthos ordered, leading Aramis to his horse once he regained his balance. 

"I can ride," Aramis insisted, sniffling and fumbling in his pockets for a handkerchief. 

"No Aramis, you're with me." He handed over his bandana to his friend, who tried to wipe his nose discreetly. "I'm not picking your sorry self off the ground every time you sneeze!"

Aramis was about to argue further but the determined looks on the faces of all three of his brothers convinced him it would be a waste of breath. He sighed and allowed Porthos to help him onto his horse before mounting behind him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More fluff, more Porthos worrying over sick Aramis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for the kudos and positive comments. I really appreciate them!

They hadn't been on the road for long when Aramis realized how grateful he was to be riding with Porthos and not on his own. Quickly overcome with exhaustion, he struggled to stay sitting upright, finally giving into his fatigue and leaning back against Porthos' chest. 

Porthos kept one arm securely around him as they rode. He was acutely aware of every cough, sneeze and sniffle made by his friend, frowning with worry at how miserable he seemed. He worried at how Aramis drifted quickly off to sleep, his head bobbing, occasionally lolling onto Porthos' shoulder. Even more so he worried that Aramis was so quiet, riding didn't seem right without a steady stream of chatter coming from the marksman. 

Athos and D'Artagnan shared his concern, riding on either side of them, with Aramis' horse following behind tied to D'Artagnan's. It was disconcerting for all three to have the man who they considered their physician seem so ill. It was always Aramis who was the caregiver, not the one needing the care.

After several hours they reached an inn. Athos and D'Artagnan quickly moved to help a half asleep Aramis down from Porthos' horse. Porthos then slipped off handing the horse off to the stable boy. 

"Where are we?" Aramis asked, his voice thick with congestion as Athos made his way inside the inn. 

"You and I will be staying here for a bit while D'Artagnan and Athos return to Paris." Porthos explained, fully expecting the argument that followed. 

"Porthos, that's ridiculous. I can ride to Paris, it's just a cold!" 

"I'm not fighting with you Aramis, it's already been decided." Aramis scowled, not admitting even to himself that he didn't even have enough energy to argue the point. 

Athos returned a few minutes later having secured a room. "D'Artagnan why don't we have some lunch before we get back on our way. The Gascon agreed eagerly, thrilled at the idea of a hot meal. 

The four men made their way to the inn's small dining room and were served bowls of hot stew and fresh bread. Even Aramis managed a fair amount of the tasty meal. He felt grateful that other than his brothers the room was empty, he felt bad enough that they were forced to listen to him cough and sneeze his way through his lunch. 

After finishing what he could of his lunch, Aramis rested his elbows on the table and his head in his hands. He was developing a headache and his congestion was causing his whole face to ache. He was distracted by the sound of something being placed on the table. He opened his eyes to see a steaming mug before him and a young woman standing beside him. 

"Excuse me Monsieur, my mother asked me to bring this to you. I hope it helps you feel better."

"Thank you Mademoiselle," Aramis smiled, pausing to clearing his throat. "It is most appreciated." The innkeeper's daughter offered a small bow and returned to the kitchen. 

"Well that's it, now I'm really worried." Porthos' voice had a serious tone and Aramis looked up from his tea in surprise. "You must be sick, pretty girl like that and you didn't even manage to give her "the stare." The four men shared a laugh, even as Aramis tried unsuccessfully to scowl at his friend. 

Aramis smiled as he sipped the soothing tea, the liberal amounts of honey eased his sore throat and the tea itself relieved much of his congestion. He found himself reaching for Porthos' bandana, trying to discreetly wipe his dripping nose. He looked up to see Porthos eyeing him with concern. 

"Don't worry," he sniffled, waving it sheepishly, "I'll be sure to wash it before I return it."

"Not worried about that you idiot." Porthos grumbled, ruffling his hair. 

Aramis managed to raise his argument one last time before his friends departed but it fell on deaf ears. D'Artagnan pulled him into a hug before he left. "Get some rest Aramis." He then turned to Porthos, clapping him on the shoulder and rolling his eyes. "Good luck, I'm afraid you'll need it."

Athos put his hands on Aramis' shoulders and met his eye, "Feel better my friend, we'll see you in Paris soon enough." He gripped Porthos' hand and he and D'Artagnan made their way out of the inn. 

The innkeeper's wife showed Porthos and Aramis to their room after lunch. Aramis sniffled all the way to the room, pulling out the bandana and blowing nose thoroughly as soon as the door closed. Porthos winced in sympathy at the sound. 

"On second thought, why don't you just buy me a new bandana," Porthos was somewhat amused at how even sick, his friend couldn't do something he thought would make him less attractive in front of a member of the opposite sex. Aramis made a face and made his way to the small table in the room and sat down. He could not hide his appreciation of the warm room, the fire already blazing, and the large comfortable looking bed.

"What do you think you're doing?" Porthos demanded, continuing before Aramis had a chance to answer. "Bed! Now."

"Porthos, I am not a child!"

"You're sick, you need some rest, you will be taking a nap."

"I certainly do not need a nap! That's ridiculous, I..." His further arguments were cut off by a sudden sneeze, which quickly led to a bout of coughing. 

Porthos poured him a cup of water from the pitcher on the table and stood by, hand on his friend's shoulder until the coughing stopped. "It's not ridiculous," he spoke softly guiding Aramis to his feet and walking him towards the bed. "You need the rest Aramis." 

Porthos gently started removing Aramis' leathers and turned down the bed as the man finished undressing. "But Porthos..." He protested as Porthos helped him into bed.

"Shhhh, sleep 'Mis. I'll be right here if you need anything."

Aramis wanted to argue, wanted to insist he was fine, but the warmth and comfort of the bed proved far too enticing, and his eyes closed almost immediately. Porthos smiled fondly as he pulled the blankets up and tucked them around his friend, pausing to gently brush the hair back from his forehead. There was the hint of warmth there, no fever yet, but Porthos expected that would change. 

Porthos watched him sleeping peacefully, pleased he seemed to be resting comfortably. After a time, the large man grew restless. He retrieved his deck of cards from his bag and managed a few games of solitaire before finally resting his head on the table and dozing off himself. 

He was startled awake by a knock on the door. "Just a minute," he called softly, pausing to look at Aramis appraisingly before moving to the door. His friend was still sleeping peacefully, but there was a distinct flush on his cheeks indicating the likely return of his fever. 

Porthos opened the door to find the innkeeper's wife, "I'm sorry to disturb you Monsieur. I was coming to see if you and your friend would be joining us for dinner or would like it brought to your room?"

Porthos spared a glance over his shoulder at Aramis. "If it wouldn't be too much trouble Madame, we'll eat in the room."

"How is your friend?" She asked kindly 

"I think he's getting a fever," Porthos frowned, "Had one last night too."

"I'll brew some willow tea, that should help with the fever and any aches and pains he might have. I'll send some soup for dinner too. Do you need anything else?"

Porthos smiled gratefully at the woman and thanked her profusely. Aramis being sick definitely put him on edge. He was so used to Aramis taking care of him and the others that he worried about not taking care of him properly. It didn't help that a Aramis was usually a terrible patient as well. 

The innkeeper's daughter returned a short time later with a large tray. There was a small pot of tea , a bottle of honey, and a crock of soup along with enough food for both men and a large bottle of wine. Porthos thanked her and placed the tray on the table. 

Aramis stirred as the door closed, blinking his eyes sleepily, "Porthos?"

Porthos made his way over to the bed, sitting on the edge. "Hey, how are you feeling?"

Aramis shrugged, shivering slightly, "'m cold. Can't breathe." Porthos could hear the congestion as Aramis tried to sniffle through his stuffed up nose. 

Aramis pushed himself up in bed, wincing with the movement, "Headache?" Porthos asked softly and Aramis nodded. "There's some willow tea for you, and dinner." He glanced towards the table. 

"Not hungry but the tea sounds good." 

"I'll get you some," Porthos stood but Aramis grabbed his arm. 

"I'll come sit with you while you eat," he offered with a faint smile. 

"You sure you're up to it?" A dirty look from Aramis caused Porthos to backtrack. "I mean I'd like that. There's soup too. "

"Soup would be nice," Aramis smiled and slid to the edge of the bed. 

Porthos stood nearby, expecting Aramis to be a little dizzy at first, but of course reluctant to take much help. As Aramis stood a wave of dizziness washed over him. He once again found himself clutching Porthos' arm for support. Porthos silently put his arm around his friend's shoulder and frowned at the heat he felt. 

"You're fever is up again," He spoke softly as he guided Aramis to the table once he seemed steady. 

"The willow tea will help," Aramis offered as Porthos pulled out a chair for him. 

"I know," Porthos replied, "Still don't like it."

"I'll be fine Porthos, there's no need to coddle me." Aramis snapped as he slowly lowered himself into the chair. 

"All the times you looked after me when I was hurt or sick do you really think I'm not going to do the same for you?"

Something in his tone made Aramis look up and he was surprised to see a flash of sadness in his friend's eyes before Porthos quickly looked away. 

Aramis was unprepared for the feelings of guilt he experienced. "Porthos, I'm sorry." He reached out and grabbed his arm. "It's just, well.... you know I'm not good at being sick."

"Really? I hadn't noticed," Aramis was relieved to see Porthos smile at him. "Let me help you, yeah?" Aramis nodded, coughing into his shoulder. 

Porthos looked at him for a moment and squeezed his shoulder before making his way back to the bed and pulling one of the blankets off. He draped it around Aramis' shoulders. "You're shivering." Aramis nodded again. Porthos poured him some tea and then pulled the chair from the other side of the table and sat beside him. Wanting to be close enough to offer warmth and keep a close watch him. 

Aramis offered a smile and thanks as Porthos settled beside him. "Eat Porthos, I'm fine!" He insisted after a minute of the man intently watching him drink his tea. Porthos grunted and pulled over a plate of food. 

After a few minutes of drinking the tea Aramis was sniffling. He started to stand and Porthos put a hand on his arm to stop him. "Whoa, where do you think you're goin'?"

Aramis sighed, "To get a handkerchief to blow my nose."

"Sit, I'll get it." Aramis rolled his eyes but sat back down. Porthos retrieved the bandana from the table beside the bed. Aramis accepted it gratefully and turned away from Porthos to blow his nose. 

"I am sorry about that," he murmured when he finished. 

Porthos looked at him with surprise,"Why are you sorry?"

"Because that was disgusting and you're eating supper."

Porthos offered a small smile, "First of all it'll take more then some snot to ruin my appetite and second, there's nothing about you that's disgusting." His face was sympathetic," I'm only sorry you're feeling so lousy."

Aramis smiled warmly in return, "You are a true friend, I'm lucky to have you."

"Of course you are." Porthos grinned. "Now have some soup."

After finishing his soup Aramis was clearly exhausted. He fought to stay awake and make small talk with Porthos but he kept nodding off. He didn't even realize he was asleep until he felt Porthos' arm around him and heard him speaking softly in his ear, "Time for bed you."

"But Porthos," Aramis protested and Porthos chuckled. It was so like Aramis, even when he was half asleep to argue about taking care of himself. 

"But nothing. Come on now," He gently lifted Aramis to his feet, feeling concerned about the heat coming from his friend. Aramis was almost boneless, leaning heavily against Pothos as they walked the short distance to the bed. It was Aramis' sniffling when he stood up that made Porthos reach back and grab the bandana as they moved away from the table. Something he was especially grateful for as Aramis was struck by a sudden sneeze as Porthos was lowering him onto the bed. 

"Bless you," Porthos sighed with a fond smile and wiped the spray from the side of his face. "Here, blow your nose," he handed the bandana to his sniffling friend. 

Aramis was mortified when he realized what had happened. "Porthos, I'm so sorry!" He sniffled, "Please forgive my friend, I..."

"Shhhhh," Porthos placed his fingers to Aramis' lips and spoke soothingly . "It's fine, it was an accident. You're sick, I know you couldn't help it."

"But what if you get sick?" Porthos was surprised at how emotional Aramis was, there were tears in his eyes. "You're taking such good care of me. I don't want you to get sick."

Porthos sat on the bed beside him. "Now Aramis stop, everything is fine. There's nothing to be sorry for. The fever is making you get upset. You need to get some rest."

"Are you sure?" Aramis still looked anxious.

"I promise," Porthos helped him lie down on the bed and covered him with a single blanket, not wanting him to be any hotter. 

"I don't want you to get sick Porthos," Aramis' eyes were closing but he still couldn't relax. 

"I'll be fine." He reassured. 

"That would be terrible. I wouldn't want to make you sick. I love you Porthos, you're my best friend..."

Porthos' expression went from surprise to fondness, "I love you too Aramis. I'm fine, you need to sleep now."

After several more minutes of reassurances Aramis drifted off to sleep. Porthos felt exhausted enough from caring for his friend the previous night and throughout the day that he climbed into bed beside him as soon as he returned the dishes and tray to the inn's kitchen. He was sent back to his room with herbs for willow tea if Aramis should stir during the night and a basin and some cloths in case his fever rose. 

Porthos worried over his friend a few minutes once in bed, but the sound of Aramis' snores soon lulled him to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

He was surprised to wake to the sun shining through the window. He had expected Aramis to be restless over night but he was pleased to find him curled up beside him sleeping peacefully. He gently touched his forehead and smiled to find no sign of fever. 

He slipped out of bed, careful not to disturb his friend. Once he was dressed he made his way to the kitchen to find some breakfast. He returned a few minutes later with two large bowls of oatmeal and a fresh pot of tea. He was surprised to find Aramis awake as he entered the room. 

"You're awake," He smiled widely. "How are you feeling?"

Aramis cleared his throat,"Much better today." At Porthos' raised eyebrow, he amended his answer to a rueful, "Well a little better at least." 

"I'll take that," Porthos smiled in return as he set the tray on the table. "As long your getting better. Breakfast?"

Aramis nodded and sat up in bed, easing his legs over the edge. Porthos stood by as Aramis got to his feet, holding his arm until Aramis was steady enough to gently push him away. 

As much as Porthos doubted Aramis' honesty about his health he had to admit he did seem to be better. He actually ate his oatmeal and drank two cups of tea. "You really are feeling better aren't you?" He grinned. 

Aramis smiled in return, "I told you I was," he huffed, the congestion slightly improved but still obvious in his voice. 

"You can understand why I might not believe you." Porthos shot him a glance. 

"Perhaps, but I really am better. We should start out for Paris this morning..."

"Absolutely not." Porthos interrupted "You're not going anywhere today."

"Porthos, we need to get back,"

"Don't you think I was payin' attention all the times you took care of the rest of us? I know you would never let any of us back to duty the morning after we had a fever." Aramis had opened his mouth to argue but closed it at that. "If your fever stays down tonight we can leave tomorrow." Porthos declared and Aramis couldn't even argue. 

"I don't suppose I can argue with such sound medical advice," Aramis smirked. 

"That's right you can't. You'll spend today resting too. I know you're starting to feel better, but it's not like you're not still sick." Porthos grinned at Aramis' pout. "And don't think that puppy dog face will get you anywhere. That works better for D'Artagnan than you anyway. 

"To be fair, it works much better with the ladies for me."

"Well, that won't help you today. Though you did tell me you loved me last night." Porthos laughed and Aramis looked surprised. 

"I do love you of course, you're my brother, though I don't remember telling you..."

"You were feverish, it made you very emotional. But don't worry, I love you too. Why else would I be nursing you back to health eh?"

A look of realization came to Aramis' face. "Oh my god, I remember now! Porthos did I sneeze on you?"

"Maybe a little," Porthos grinned. "Nothing to do about it now. You're were plenty sorry last night. "

"But, I really must apologize my friend. I..."

"Enough Aramis. No more apologies, it was an accident and I'm fine." Aramis continued to try to apologize until Porthos threatened to leave him tied to the bed while he went out for the day. 

The two men remained at the table talking for awhile after breakfast until Porthos noted Aramis starting to flag. "Looks like it's time to take a rest." Aramis considered arguing but decided to save his voice. As much as he didn't want to admit it, he knew the normally easy ride back to Paris would be grueling for him, and he'd need all the rest he could get. 

Porthos smiled at him fondly as he tucked him into bed once again, pleased that Aramis had been steady in his feet on the way back to bed. He was surprised to see Aramis looking up at him appraisingly. "What's wrong? "

"You look tired," Aramis offered. 

"I'm fine Aramis."

"You should take a nap too." He patted the bed beside him

"First you tell me you love me and now you're trying to get me into bed! I think you've been away from the ladies in Paris too long my friend!" Porthos laughed. 

Aramis chuckled, but was not deterred. "You really do look tired. I know you've been taking care of me for the last two nights. You should get some rest too." Aramis yawned. 

"Well taking care of you is an exhausting job," Porthos joked. "Though I have to say you've been much better behaved than the last time you were sick. It's easier to keep you out of trouble away from the garrison and Paris."

"I really do appreciate it Porthos, I know I can be difficult..."

"It's no more than you've done for me dozens of times. There's no need to thank me Aramis. I'm happy to do it. " He squeezed Aramis' shoulder and Aramis reached up and squeezed his hand in return. 

Aramis patted the bed beside him again with a hopeful look. "Fine," Porthos sighed, " Might as well take advantage of all this time off duty." He slid into bed beside Aramis who thanked him silently. "Besides," Porthos added "I'd be bored once you were asleep anyways."

The two men slept until early afternoon. Porthos woke with Aramis curled up beside him, his head resting on Porthos' shoulder. He smiled fondly at his friend, happy to see him looking better and to not feel the heat of a fever. Aramis opened his eyes a few minutes later, and smiled in return. 

"How are you doing?" Porthos asked as he stretched and slipped out from under Aramis' head. "Honestly." He added in a serious tone. 

"Really much better Porthos. I still have this damned congestion," he gestured at his head."But my throat is much better and I don't feel weak like I did with the fever. "

"Glad to hear it," Porthos smiled widely. "Should we go have lunch with the other guests of eat up here?"

Aramis had retrieved the bandana and was blowing his nose thoroughly. Porthos winced in sympathy at the sound. Definitely not completely better, he thought to himself. 

Aramis looked up sheepishly once he finished, "Do you mind if we stay up here? I know you don't mind, but I really am still kind of disgusting..."

"Of course I don't mind you idiot," he ruffled his hair affectionately. "It'll be much easier to keep you out of trouble up here anyway." Aramis tried to look offended but couldn't manage to hide his smile. 

Porthos went in search of lunch and returned with soup, bread, and cheese for both of them, along with wine and another pot of tea. He was happy to see Aramis hungry and eating his lunch. They enjoyed each other's company as they ate, the quiet interrupted with occasional conversation or the sound of Aramis' coughs. 

After he finished eating Aramis moved away from the table before pulling out his bandana to blow his nose again. He turned around to see Porthos smirking at him. "What's so funny?," he asked, clearing his throat. 

"Just thinking that even with all that snot you could probably charm some pretty girl into taking care of you."

"I don't want some pretty girl taking care of me." Aramis looked away in embarrassment. "I want you taking care of me. "

A wide, warm smile came to Porthos' face. "That's because I learned from the very best." Aramis actually blushed at the sentiment, and for once found himself speechless. 

They played a few games of cards after lunch before Porthos ushered a tired Aramis back to bed. Aramis did put up a half hearted argument just to save face, but he went fairly willingly.   
"I guess if you had some pretty little thing taking care of you instead of me getting you to bed wouldn't be such an effort." Porthos chuckled. 

"Perhaps not," Aramis added sleepily, "Though I imagine I wouldn't be getting as much rest. Thank you my friend."

"You're welcome." The marksman was asleep before he even heard the words. 

Porthos slipped out of the room as Aramis slept, finally comfortable that he would not be needed. He checked on their horses and let the innkeeper know that they planned on leaving the following morning. He even spent some time chatting with the innkeeper and his wife, enjoying the time out of the small room. He checked in several times to find Aramis sleeping soundly. He returned with their supper while Aramis continued to doze. He couldn't help but check to see if his fever had returned. He released a sigh of relief to find his forehead cool. 

"Why do you look so happy?" He was startled to see Aramis grinning up at him. 

"No fever," Porthos smiled, "I was afraid it might go back up."

"No, I think it truly has passed. I'm sure at least in part to your excellence as a nursemaid."

"Don't know about that, with you sometimes it's more like being a governess....or a jailer" Porthos laughed as Aramis punched him in the arm. 

Both enjoyed their supper together and went to bed soon after, anticipating a long day's ride back to Paris. It was Aramis who woke first. He managed to get himself up and ready, and even return with breakfast before Porthos awoke. Porthos rolled over in surprise to see Aramis laying out their breakfast on the table. 

"I figured I'd bring you breakfast at least once," Aramis smiled. "To show my appreciation for you taking care of me."

"You realize that you take care of me all the time," Porthos made his way over to the table and pulled Aramis into a one armed embrace. "I am happy you're feeling better."

They set out for Paris soon after breakfast. Their saddle bags were weighted down with enough food for a small feast, courtesy of the innkeeper's wife. They both thanked her gratefully as she sent them both off with a hug and Porthos with a kiss on the cheek. As much as Aramis was appreciative of what she had done for him he was even more grateful of her support of Porthos while he had been sick. 

It was a long exhausting day for both men. Over the course of the day the sounds of coughing and sneezing were more and more frequent, as were the concerned glances between the two. By the time they reached the garrison, Paris was dark and it was late in the evening. The stable were empty save for the horses as they entered. 

Athos and D'Artagnan had remained in the courtyard hoping to see their friends return, worried that perhaps that Aramis had not recovered enough to travel, or that they had encountered trouble on the road. They had been waiting for their friends to eat but it was late enough they were considering dining without them. 

DuBois, one of the older Musketeers, returning late from duty at the palace stopped by their table on his way to the mess hall. " I just left the stables, there were two Musketeers approaching on horseback as I headed back. It looked like Aramis and Porthos. " DuBois knew the inseparables well, and could easily read the worry on the men. Athos and D'Artagnan offered their thanks and headed quickly to the stable. 

They were just about to enter when they heard the sound of sneezing coming from the inside. D'Artagnan frowned, worry creasing his brow, "Aramis certainly doesn't sound any better."

"That's not Aramis," Athos commented as they entered the stable to find Porthos with his nose buried in a handkerchief. Aramis was beside him, his hand on the larger man's shoulder, his expression a mixture of concern and guilt. 

"Oh Porthos," D'Artagnan offered sympathetically. "You caught it."

"Why did you not stay longer if you were ill?" Athos demanded looking at the two men before him. 

"Wasn't sick this morning," Porthos jammed the handkerchief into his pocket. Athos looked to Aramis for confirmation. 

Aramis nodded, "He seemed fine this morning." His voice was congested and hoarse, "It seemed to come on this afternoon and he's been getting progressively worse."

"You're not sounding well yourself Aramis," Athos frowned. 

"He was doin' much better." Porthos answered. "Else we wouldn't have come back yet." The exhaustion was obvious in both men, as was their worry for each other. 

Athos sighed, "Well I guess the only think to do now is get you some supper and get you to bed." He made his way to Porthos, grabbed his saddlebags and took his friend's arm, D'Artagnan did the same for Aramis. 

Within an hour both men had been fed(hot soup and tea from Serge), reported off to the Captain and were tucked into Aramis' bed sleeping soundly. Neither had been willing to leave the other and Athos had learned from years of experience that they were much less work together than alone. Athos sat beside the bed taking first watch as D'Artagnan was curled up on the floor before the fire, trying to sleep over the sound of the two men's congested snores, finally settling in with his pillow over his head.

**Author's Note:**

> As always fluff without substance.  
> This took forever because I kept stopping to read other stories while I was writing and then felt hopelessly insecure.  
> Once again I'm trying to just embrace my fluff and keep going.


End file.
